


Surprise!

by laurentsaint



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: For a Friend, M/M, One Shot, basically just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurentsaint/pseuds/laurentsaint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock isn't quite sure how buying the milk earns him a kiss, but he's not about to complain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprise!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Givethemtheblood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Givethemtheblood/gifts).



John Watson was greeted with a slight 'humph' and a familiar smirk as soon as he opened the door to 221B. Sherlock Holmes, in his self-designated thinking chair, sat before him. He was trying - and failing - to suppress a grin as he pretended to continue reading the book perched carefully in his hands. 

"So the date didn't go well," Sherlock announced, not bothering to make eye contact with his companion.

"That's getting annoying."

"That?"

"When you know everything I've been doing as soon as you look at me." 

Sherlock's sharp eyes met John's, and he laughed briefly. "Don't be stupid… I haven't looked at you yet."

John couldn't get a word in before Sherlock began his verbal rampage. 

"I knew it was you because I heard it. You fumbled with the lock - accidentally turned the key the wrong way. Just like you always do. I noticed your footsteps were slightly heavier than normal as you came up the stairs - and at this point I assumed you were either tired or disappointed." 

"And your conclusion?" Though not particularly in the mood, John was curious to hear. Some things just didn't change. 

"The only way you could have gotten tired in that short space of time is either dancing or intercourse. The latter is improbable - in the nicest way possible - and the former impossible. Your shoes tell me you haven't been dancing."

"You have lipstick on your left hand," he continued. "She kissed your cheek at the start of the night, and you wiped it off. Being a doctor, you've obviously washed your hands in the past three hours. The lipstick didn't come off. Twenty-four hour lipstick? I'd say she's still out right now."

"And the date itself?" 

Sherlock smiled carefully. "You told me. I do listen, John." 

With a grimace, John replied, "So I see you're feeling as productive as ever." 

"Of course," Sherlock said, weightlessly rising from the chair, "I even managed to add an extra type of tobacco ash to my blog." 

"Congratulations," the doctor replied dryly, and turned to hang up his coat. Sherlock was still watching him when he turned back around. He looked almost… _expectant_? "Something else you want to tell m-"

"No." 

"You seem-"

"Nope." 

"Okay. Alright," John surrendered, holding his palms up. When greeted by silence, he turned away again and headed to the kitchen. Footsteps followed. 

"Make me a cup of tea."

John paused, fingers wrapped around the fridge handle, and looked at Sherlock. "Are you bloody kidding me?" Swinging the door open, he continued, "Well, maybe if you actually went out to buy some milk, I'd-"

Sherlock couldn't hold back his smile. 

"You bought milk." John's head peeped out from behind the fridge door to give his best friend a suspicious look. "And you… you cleaned the kitchen." 

"I did," Sherlock said complacently, and in that moment rather reminded John of a cat. 

"What're you up to?"

"Maybe I just wanted to do something nice."

"You don't _do nice things_."

"You're my best friend-"

"You have ulterior motives." 

"How dare you suggest such a-"

"Sherlock."

The smug exterior of the detective vanished, and was replaced with a far more nervous, far more human expression. "You've been stressed. I wanted to help." 

Help?

"I... I appreciate it. Thank you."

Sherlock's gaze flitted away for a millisecond, and a small smile reappeared. "You should. I don't enjoy cleaning." 

John closed the door, and found himself face-to-face with his tall friend. He stood on his tiptoes, and kissed the adorable bastard straight on his lips. 

It was over too soon. 

"John...? John?" 

"Mm?"

"You just kissed me." 

"What? Don't be ridiculous."

"You just kissed me."

"Cleaning fumes must've gotten to your head." 

Milk in hand, he pulled back and went to make tea.


End file.
